WebNovels

Chapter 1 - The Trash Of The CrimsonBlade County (Part-1)

During the dark ages, when the benevolent light of the god was smothered beneath the twin veils of evil—Aphoris, the Shadowbringer, and Armenia, the Scourge of Soul—Mistellin, the world, cried in anguish. Her skies bled red, her oceans roared, and the lands were scarred by endless war.

Moved by her sorrow, the god—whose name has since been lost to reverence and fear—poured all of his divine might into choosing four champions to rise against the calamity. They were:

Alex, the Crimson Swordsman — master of the blade, who danced through battle like wind through fire.

James, the Iron Defender — whose shield could block even the wrath of gods.

June, the Spellweaver — scholar of arcane truth, who bent magic with a mere whisper.

Daliah, the Healer — the beacon of light, who wept for every life lost.

Alongside them stood Julian Althan, prince of the fractured human kingdom, and leaders of the other races: Queen Vega Lyrae of the Elves, radiant and wise, and King Harld Alfson of the Dwergs, mighty and resolute. Together, their forces waged a brutal campaign that split the land in half and broke the skies open.

Alex and Julian faced Aphoris atop the Bleeding Plateau. James and June stood with the elves against Armenia beneath the Broken Stars. Though both gods of darkness were mighty, they were no match for the unity of courage and sacrifice. The evil siblings fell, and peace—fragile, but real—returned to Mistellin.

From that victory, three major powers arose:

The Ashelthan Empire, with Julian crowned its first monarch.

The Elven Enclave, which retreated into the contaminated wilds to cleanse the blight.

The Dwerg Strongholds, who tunneled into the mountains to mine, forge, and prosper.

Julian appointed the four heroes as Counts of the Empire, but only James and Alex accepted.

James Rotsgard, The Final Defender, vowed his bloodline would forever guard the throne.

Alex CrimsonBlade, The Blade that Severed Night, claimed the northlands and named his house after the crimson arc of his sword.

Daliah became a saint among the people, building temples and orphanages. Her followers took her name to honor her grace.June, meanwhile, built magical academies and sealed labs across the continent to study corruption. She, too, passed her name to her successors.

And so, years later, within the stronghold of House CrimsonBlade, a boy named Shane sat beside his younger half-brother William, reading the tale from a dusty old book.

The moonlight spilled through the curtains as Shane closed the book gently, his voice soft.

William: "Brother, why does the hero Alex and Father have the same last name?"

Shane smiled, placing the book down.

Shane: "Because… he was our great-great-grandfather."

William's eyes widened.

William: "Great-great-grandfather?" he echoed, frowning as he tried to picture it. "That means… he was grandfather's grandpa! Whoa! That's really old."

They both laughed, the room filling with warmth only siblings could share.

Shane: "Yep. That also means we carry the blood of a hero. Now... time to sleep, Will."

William: "Okay. Good night, Brother!"

Shane: "Good night."

And for a while, those nights continued in peace.

Shane was the son of Count Noah Hepburn CrimsonBlade and Delilah, a woman shrouded in mystery. She had appeared in Noah's life like moonlight through storm clouds—sudden, bright, and unforgettable. Their love was swift, but short-lived. Delilah died giving birth to Shane. Rumors whispered of curses or forbidden blood, but Noah never spoke of them.

Under pressure from the Emperor, Noah was forced to marry Julianne, the Emperor's sister. It wasn't love—it was leverage. And while Noah stayed by Shane's side when he could, the cold halls of nobility were not kind to a boy born of a nameless woman.

Julianne showed no warmth. Her son, William, became the pride of the court. Shane… the invisible shadow. But Shane loved his little brother with all his heart. He never blamed Will. From the moment he saw his newborn brother, Shane had decided to be his shield.

From age 9, Shane would read William bedtime stories—tales of ancient heroes, wise mages, and brave princes. And William, giggling and wide-eyed, would fall asleep believing his big brother was the greatest storyteller in the world.

But peace rarely lasts forever.

When Shane turned 10, everything began to fall apart.

That was the year the court declared him talentless. That was when nobles began to whisper. When the title "The Trash of CrimsonBlade" etched itself into Shane's legacy.

But Shane would remember these nights — the stories, the smiles, the locket hidden in his drawer — and one day, he would rise to rewrite what it meant to carry the CrimsonBlade name.

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